Flight
by LittleGreenGirlxx
Summary: '"There's no place like home! There's no place like home!" she mocked in a scathing imitation of the little girl. "Stupid farmyard brat…" She veered left, the opposite direction from the palace.' Glinda's reaction to her friends deaths. Musicalverse.


**This is a bit odd, but I just wondered how Glinda's mind would work in the immediate period after Elphaba's death. For some reason, she decided to go a little loopy - since recent events mirror some that have happened in Elphie's life, her crumbling grip on reality also shows a similarity to the way Elphaba ended up. Glinda finally realises why Elphaba was so broken, and why she went mad. **

**Oh, I know. I like it, though. :) **

* * *

Glinda the Good waved her hand gracefully at Dorothy's disappearing figure, an appraising smile ornamenting her beautiful face. The girl clicked her ruby heels together time and time again, muttering a little nonsense phrase that Glinda had invented for her own amusement: a simple transportation spell would have sufficed to send her home.

"Goodbye, Dorothy!" the Good Witch beamed, the goodbyes of the citizens of the Emerald City echoing around the high buildings and reverberating in her ears. The Wizard's balloon faded into the distance, and she sent a fleeting glare after it. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have lots of important business to attend to!" Glinda smiled softly, stepping into her bubble and floating gracefully towards the palace, her grin quickly turning to a grimace as the Ozians cheered her name. No-one noticed.

"_There's no place like home! There's __**no **__place like home!_" she mocked in a scathing imitation of the little girl. "Stupid farmyard brat…" She veered left, the opposite direction from the palace. The high emerald studded walls of the city soared into the air and she had to bank around a couple of towers to avoid her bubble popping, as this would precipitate a long fall to her death. _Not _exactly top of her to-do list. Glinda muttered a few choice syllables and her bubble immediately shrunk in size, making her journey practically invisible.

As she glided slowly away from the city, the Good Witch allowed herself a few moments for reflection. The Wicked Witch was indeed dead…but that meant that Elphaba was dead. And Fiyero, too. Poor, dear Elphie and Yero; they really had been an ideal match for one another… Pity it had to end before it could even begin. His rejection and her betrayal still hurt, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry with them now: they had sacrificed too much for one another.

The Good Witch wondered if Fiyero would ever have given up his life for _her_. She sincerely doubted it.

* * *

Glinda hummed a little tune to herself as she flew, and smiled sadly at the image of a little girl in a blue dress, heavy black boots and a tall black hat popped into the front of her mind. She felt the same gush to remorse as she had that night at the Ozdust, but also a now familiar sinking in her heart as she remembered Fiyero staring, transfixed, at this strange party guest.

Upon contemplation, she wondered how it had never occurred to her earlier. Had she really been _that _self absorbed and shallow? With Fiyero, it had all been an act, but with Glinda… She meant every self-approving word that came out of her mouth, but now she regretted not letting him be with his real love earlier.

Perhaps, if they had known that they were in love sooner…

Well, of course _they _had known they were in love from that time with that horrendible _Lion _cub…

But if **she **had only known! …

Maybe they'd still be alive now. Elphaba. Fiyero. Alive.

Perhaps, if Fiyero had been with Elphaba that day in the throne room with the Wizard and Morrible and those poor Monkeys, he could have talked her out of running away, talked her out of becoming a convicted criminal…

Or he would have gone with her. Yes.

He was as brave as she was, so he would have taken flight with her -

Something Glinda didn't have the strength of character to do.

Eventually, the fateful place could be seen on the horizon. Kiamo Ko. It loomed, grey and austere, high above the clouds that swathed the mountain it resided on, and the presence of the Witch still seemed to linger. Glinda had been there when Elphie died, but something in her pushed her back again; some kind of masochistic instinct that yearned to be near the souls of her beloved pair. She had already returned twice in the six days since Elphie's death.

She snorted out loud at that particular notion - Elphaba would have cackled at the use of her own name and the existence of a soul in the same sentence. Fiyero would stifle her cackle with a kiss, and then green woman would undo the enchantment she used to make herself look old and ugly, and the beautiful young girl would come around to Glinda's way of thinking; no-one could love that much and still lack something as basic as a soul.

The blonde shook her head vigorously to rid herself of these morbid thoughts - just the mental image of Fiyero kissing Elphaba made her head drop so low it threatened to come out the bottom of her tiny shoes and fall miles to the ground. Yet she knew fine well that the turn of events, conjured up by her grieving mind, would have been the real situation to take place between the perfect pair.

As she neared the castle, a large figure with furiously flapping wings advanced towards her from the top turret. She enlarged her bubble again and cast a welcoming smile at Chistery, the Wicked Witch's especial pet - a flying Monkey. Glinda made the bubble hover, and the Monkey slowly drew something out from underneath his massive blue and red waistcoat.

'_Blue and red, Elphie?' _Glinda thought wanly. _'All of the colours you could pair together to make your pretty apes look scary and you go for __**blue and red**__? Honestly, did I teach you nothing?' _

Chistery produced the charred broomstick of the Witch, and Glinda was very tempted to ask where he got it, until she remembered that she herself had brought it back on her previous visit.

"Miss Glinda?" Chistery tried, holding the stick out for her to take. As her hand slid out through the cold wetness of the bubble and closed around the wood of the handle, a new warmth spread through her fingertips.

"Miss Glinda **ride **broom!" the Monkey said with what counted as his version of a smile. Glinda cocked her head in amusement.

"As if I have the power to control the silly thing? I need a wand to channel what little magic I have - Elphie was the one with the _real _power."

Despite her misgivings, the Good Witch's grip tightened on the broom handle and it shivered happily in her grasp, which she took as a very good sign indeed. Gingerly, she popped one leg out of the bubble and perched her hip on the broom - why on earth couldn't she have waited to _land _before she tried a new mode of transport?

The broom bucked impatiently, and Glinda had to throw all of her weight onto it to avoid being thrown both off the broom and out of the bubble, thus ending up a squishy mess on the ragged rocks below.

Before she knew it, the blonde was supported only by one thin circle of Quoxwood, and she was whizzing off towards the palace with Chistery behind her, waving his arms and crowing in delight.

Glinda decided that she did not like this broom riding institution one little bit as the sheer speed of the wind made her eyes water and her skin felt plastered to her face. She didn't dare to look down, nor up, nor behind. She couldn't look ahead or to the left or to the right either, so the Good Witch simply clamped her eyes shut and held on for dear life until she felt her dainty feet touch solid stone - the broom had flown her right in the window of the tallest tower.

_That _tower - the one where Elphaba had died. Her hat still lay pathetically where she had fallen; or perhaps a couple of feet to the right. Had the monkeys moved it? Glinda didn't know, nor did she much care. The point was, it was _still there_. With some kind of macabre curiosity, the little woman picked up the hat and held it in her two hands, remembering with all her might.

She opened her eyes to see what the castle _should _have looked like - this room would be painted yellow, and Fiyero would stand on the far side with his arms around Elphaba, smiling down into the crib of their fifth child. Even the Wicked Witch would smile, because she'd be young and beautiful and not the old crone they advertised on their wanted posters, and she'd love the children because they were part of Fiyero, and part of herself, and they would make Elphie's sad heart sing. Fiyero would be quite pleased, too.

The Good Witch struggled to replace Elphaba's small, lean figure with her own even smaller and slighter one, but Fiyero released her and walked away to stare out of the window like he had done so many times - after they argued, after they made love, after he'd already been sitting silently for hours staring at some silly little poppy he kept pressed in his wallet.

'_No_,' she decided. _'He definitely belonged with her. What can I do about it now, anyway? It would have happened eventually, if things had gone according to plan.' _

A circlet of glittering green glass hung on the opposite wall, and Glinda paced slowly towards it, her heels echoing around the cold stone walls. With tentative hands, she picked the hat up and deposited it on top of her head. She had to tilt her head to see anything beneath the broad brim, and the face she saw reflected wore the same haughty expression that Elphaba always did.

Suddenly, a strangled sob burst forth from her, and Glinda found herself curled on the floor, crying her heart out. She didn't pay any mind to her dress, either. The hat had simply made her miss Elphaba all the more, and seeing the familiar expression on her own face had sent her tumbling down into the depths of despair.

Chistery, who had thus forth been perched on the window ledge, stooped down to floor level and laid a furry hand (or was it a paw? Glinda wasn't sure of the correct classification) on her shaking shoulder.

"Mistress Elphie would not want M-M-Miss Glinda to be sad," he soothed, picking the little Witch up with one sweep of his massive arm. The blonde sniffed and realised that he was actually hugging her - a strange turn of events, but his fur was warm and comfortable, so she allowed it.

"I know, Chistery, I know. But how can I help it?" she replied softly, stroking the coarse fabric of his waistcoat. The Monkey was silent for a moment.

"Do not let the Witch or the Prince be dead, Miss Glinda," he said, his speech improving with every sentence he spoke. "Carry on their work. Be brave, like them."

* * *

The dress was a little too big - she was even smaller than tiny Elphaba - and the colour of her hair didn't suit such dark colours, but when she looked in the green glass mirror, Glinda's tears turned to a grin of joy. She had hunted high and low for a dress of Elphie's, and now sported that as well as her hat and broom. Glinda opened the little doors onto the balcony of the high tower, and the sight that met her eyes was utterly glorious.

All of Elphaba's Monkeys - Chistery, and all of his kin - were soaring around the castle, apparently waiting for her call. Glinda couldn't help herself. She threw her arms in the air, tossed her head back and cried, "Fly, my pretties! Fly!" in her best imitation of Elphaba's voice. She added the cackle Elphaba had developed for good measure, and found herself thrilling to hear the familiar sound again. The Monkeys crowed loudly as she laughed, flapping their almighty wings in great joy. With great determination, Glinda mounted the balustrade and held the broom out in front of her, mounting it with a resolute keenness.

Elphaba would be proud, wouldn't she? Glinda hoped so. She prayed Elphaba was looking down upon her - because she _would _have gone to Heaven - and smiling her beautiful smile, encouraging her with soft murmurs from her pretty lips. She hoped Fiyero was smiling too; pleased that the woman had finally grown into her title.

She hoped the Animals would accept her as their new patron: if they had no Wicked Witch of the West to fight for their rights, the Witch of the North would have to do. Glinda wasn't nearly as passionate about their cause as her best friend had been, so her entire motive was making Elphaba and Fiyero as proud as she could.

Glinda pushed off with both feet, surprised to find that the broom responded more to her touch when she was wearing the hat.

"To the Emerald City, fast as lightening!" she screeched, and the broom obliged.

* * *

The shrieks of terror were music to her ears. _'This is what you get for tormenting my poor Elphie!' _Glinda thought, a maniacal laugh issuing from her lips. The people of the Emerald City did not recognise the Good Witch, and called frantically from her to help them. When her bubble failed to materialise, some of them slumped to their knees in prayer, some of them hid under benches and trees.

Perhaps generating fear was the most powerful tool one could have in life. Glinda didn't know, but then again, it was clear even to her grieving mind that this thought pattern was _not _normal for her. She didn't much care.

All she could think about was avenging her Elphie.

And Fiyero.

Elphie and Yero.

She could - she _would _be as brave as them.

Oz would never know what had hit it.

* * *

**Heh. I really like this. :) Review, if you would? :D **


End file.
